


Hell

by hellbrokeluce



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbrokeluce/pseuds/hellbrokeluce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything could be hell; as long as she could be totally engulfed in the fire that was this terrible and wonderful man, she would gladly burn." // more flaurel drabble. a continuation of 'monster', but can stand alone</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell

"I'm not into you," he said quietly, dropping down onto the couch next to her. He moved her hair aside, speaking right into her ear. It made her skin break out into gooseflesh.

Laurel pointedly kept her eyes trained on the pages of her book, reading the same sentence for the sixth time since he's walked into the room. His close proximity was making her brain fuzzy, and she cleared her throat in a futile attempt to try and compose herself before he noticed.

Like that was even possible. Frank noticed everything- it was literally his job.

Frank curled the lock of hair between his fingers, tickling her jaw with it playfully. He leaned even closer, his breath hot on her ear. "And it's not just because we work together. So you need to stop." He released her hair, his hand taking ahold of her chin. She let him guide her head to the side, exposing her neck to his waiting mouth. He kissed the spot where her pulse was fluttering, inhaling her delicious scent. She smelled like lavender and citrus; he didn't think he'd ever get enough. Just the faintest hint of it could make him hard.

"Well," Laurel finally spoke, her voice thick, "like I'd ever want to screw you."

Frank chuckled, releasing her. He settled back into the couch beside her, slinging an arm along the backrest. "We are terrible liars."

Laurel closed her book and looked at him finally. "Not you. You're one of the best liars I've ever met."

He shrugged. "I only do what I need to survive. I much prefer the truth."

"And what's the truth?"

"Right now?" Frank cocked an eyebrow, his blue eyes sparking mischievously. "Truth is, you are driving me crazy."

"What?" she laughed. "But I'm not doing anything!"

"Exactly," Frank said smoothly, reaching over to tug her onto his lap. Her legs straddled across his thighs, and he grinned at her. "We've been alone now for like twenty minutes and, for some reason, I am not inside of you yet." His hands worked down the column of her throat, ghosting across her breasts as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Frank didn't do drugs, but he assumed that it was similar to kissing Laurel. He could never have enough, each smile and kiss and touch only making him crave another. He craved her with his whole body- she got under his skin in the best way possible, like a delicious itch he could never quite scratch. Now that he's had a taste he couldn't imagine not consuming her completely.

Laurel's hands were roaming over his shoulders, his chest. Kissing him harder, feeling bold, she snaked a hand down between them.

"Oh, my god," Frank groaned into her mouth when she worked his zipper open.

She slid off of his lap, sinking down to kneel between his spread thighs. "I love your cock, Frank," she told him, taking it into her hand. She knew her words would drive him crazy, that he loved it when she talked dirty. And sure enough:

"Fuck, Laurel." He swallowed hard. "Please, baby."

Just as much as Frank loved her filthy words, Laurel loved him being totally vulnerable to her. Each whisper touch of her fingertips on his erection made him practically quiver, made his breath catch in his throat. She leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to the head of his cock, and relished in the delicious moan that tore from his throat- another strangled "please".

She obliged him happily, taking him into her mouth.

This was a side of Frank no one else got to see. Even all the previous 'Frank's Girls', she knew, never possessed him so completely. It gave her a thrill. Frank was so strong, physically large and well-muscled, and he just exuded power and intimidation and control. Most of Philadelphia would consider him scary- definitely not someone to be fucked with- and they would not be wrong. Frank Delfino did not beg, but here he was, putty in her hands. Begging for her.

Only for her.

No one had ever begged for Laurel before. She'd never felt so in control, so powerful. Was there anything else that could make her feel so alive as Frank did?

Well, maybe murder.

But 'murder' and 'Frank' were forever intertwined. Frank was not a good man, she knew this. She didn't know everything, not yet, but she knew enough. He was a dark man, and he had told her before that he'd seen the same darkness in her. "I knew you the moment that I saw you..." he had said. Oddly enough, those words had not frightened her. She felt only... relief.

'Finally!' her heart had cried out. Someone understood. And not only did Frank understand, but he loved her. He loved her as only someone who has pried open your soul to peer at the deepest and darkest parts of it can, accepting those parts with all the good and shiny parts, and loving both sides of the coin equally.

Laurel had never felt so understood before. Before, she had never known there was so much to understand.

Frank's hands had tangled into her hair. His grip tightened, balling the dark strands into his fist. He was close, she could tell. He carefully but forcefully pulled her up into a standing position.

"I need you," he growled up at her, his hands already tearing at her clothes."Now."

Laurel helpfully pulled her tight skirt up around her hips as he yanked her panties downward, discarding them carelessly. He had more important things to worry about- like the perfect woman in front of him. He slid his hands up the back of her thighs, palming her firm ass, bringing her closer to him. His forehead against her stomach, he inhaled the intoxicating scent that was purely Laurel once more.

In a few swift movements, Laurel had pushed him back onto the couch and had climbed on top of him once more. His thick flesh was wrapped in her hand, being guided against her wet heat. "Tell me," she whispered, teasing them both, rubbing the head of his cock against her swollen and wanting clit. "Tell me you want it."

Frank's hips bucked up against her, into her hand. He was dying- she was killing him slowly, and he gladly accepted his fate. "Fuck, I want it," he groaned. "I want you, Laurel."

She sank down, her body stretching exquisitely to accommodate him, deliciously full. He wrapped his hands around her, pulling her closer, growling again into her hair. She might be on top of him but he was swiftly taking control of the situation.

"Oh my god," she gasped. Now it was her turn to beg. "Frank... please, Frank!"

Everything could be hell; as long as she could be totally engulfed in the fire that was this terrible and wonderful man, she would gladly burn.

**Author's Note:**

> the lack of flaurel fics saddened me (i think i'm officially crossing into 'obsessed' territory with these two!) so i started writing and now i can't stop. so if people are interested in reading, i can probably pump more of these drabbles out. let me know what you guys think!


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